What Did You Just Say?
by BrightSideoftheMoon
Summary: Ja'far should have known Sinbad was lying about having a nightmare. But sleeping with him for one night wouldn't do any harm, right? He couldn't have been more wrong. Especially upon discovering his king's habit for sleep-talking.


**This a very spontaneous idea I had while I was reading through some funny sleep talking stories so I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. This is my first time writing anything for Magi so don't hate me too much.**

 **Fair warning, there is a crap load of language.**

… **..**

Ja'far scrawled across the paper beneath his arms. A dim candle flickered silently on his desk next to him as he signed his signature at the bottom of the page. After spending the entire day finishing his paperwork, he was finally done. Outside, the moon shone high up in the sky accompanied by mass amounts of stars and almost no clouds at all. The ex-assassin sat back in his chair, heaving a heavy sigh and resting his head against the wooden back. He didn't feel the least bit tired, so he thought the most productive thing to do would be to go ahead and start on his work for tomorrow. After all, it was still moderately early in the night-at least early for _him_ anyway. With that thought in mind, Ja'far extended his hand to the large stack of papers in his 'tomorrow' section, but a knock on his office door stopped his hand mid-reach.

The advisor rolled his eyes knowing exactly who was bothering him and had half a mind to just ignore it. But then there was another knock and Ja'far found himself unwittingly standing up and making his way to open up the door. He stretched and yawned, not realizing he had been sitting in the same spot for over six hours straight; he could expect to pay for it tomorrow.

Ja'far went over and opened the door, not at all surprised to see Sinbad standing in the frame. "Sin? You're up?"

"I had a nightmare," the king said while keeping his eyes downcast on the floor.

 _Odd, Sin hasn't had a nightmare in years,_ Ja'far mused. "Really? Do you need me to get you some water? Of course you're also welcome to stay here with me if you wish," Ja'far offered.

Sinbad seemed to perk up, "Actually, would you mind coming back to my room with me? You shouldn't be up so late anyways." And with that, and without waiting for a reply, Sinbad had Ja'far's thin wrist in his hand was tugging him towards the king's bedroom.

"Sin! Wait a second now, I can't, I haven't finished-" Ja'far tried to protest but he didn't really have an excuse not to. He _was_ finished.

"But _Ja'far,_ " he whined. "I _need_ you! I'm feeling _depressed!"_

Ja'far knew what a load of crap that was, but still, he _did_ promise to be there for Sinbad. If his king really did need him, then he had to give in. _"Fine,_ Ja'far sighed in exasperation. "But only for a little bit, okay?"

"Okay!"

….

Sinbad tugged the ex-assassin to his bed and made Ja'far wait while he started stripping off his top layer of clothing. Ja'far looked off into the distance, pretending to be interested in some feature of the room so he wouldn't have to watch Sinbad undress. He left most of his clothes in, only discarding his top robes he slipped on to walk down the hall-but Ja'far knew from experience that soon those clothes would be gone too.

"You too."

"What?" Ja'far jolted out of his thoughts when his king was suddenly addressing him.

"Take off some of your clothes, you have to get in bed with me."

"Sinbad, there is no way in _hell-"_

"That's an order," Sinbad must have been trying real hard to hide any trace of a smirk or shit-eating grin threatening to break out on his face. "Come on! I don't want to be alone right now."

Maybe it was the helpless and morose look on his king's face that did it, but Ja'far soon found himself groaning and taking off his keffiyeh, slipping off his Sindrian robes, and kicking off his shoes at the foot of Sinbad's bed. "Happy?" He asked with his arms folded over his chest.

"Very," Sinbad smiled, knowing he won, and dragged the assassin into bed with him. Once Ja'far lied back into the satin sheets, the king crawled in after him, laying down and immediately trying to snake his arm around the set man's waist. But Ja'far was waiting for that to happen and he slapped it away the moment it touched him.

"Keep your hands to yourself, Sin," Ja'far warned in a chiding tone.

He could hear Sinbad groan, but the king retracted his hand and muttered an apology. "Goodnight Ja'far," he whispered in the advisor's ear knowing how much Ja'far _hated_ it.

Said man instinctively tried to bury himself deeper into the plush pillow to keep Sinbad's breath from tickling his ear. "Goodnight Sin," Ja'far murmured back. For a few more hours Ja'far lay awake listening to the king's steady breathing and light snores until he determined the man was first sleeping. _It sure took him long enough,_ Ja'far grumbled to himself. He tried to get out of the covers and back to his paperwork that sat mocking him from his office, but Sinbad suddenly had an arm wrapped around him again in a death grip. And he was _sleeping!_ Ja'far was sure of it! Honestly, how did he do it?

Mobility was obviously impossible. With a defeated sigh, Ja'far decided to just leave his paperwork for tomorrow. _So much for getting a head start._ Despite his disgruntled state, the ex-assassin still found his eyelids drooping heavily and he was passed out like his king within that hour.

…

Ever so slowly, Ja'far saw Sinbad's room coming back into focus. He blinked a few times to clear the fog from his eyes and looked around the room. It wasn't often when he woke up in the middle of the night like this, but when he did it usually didn't mean anything good. As a precaution, Ja'far undid the knives still tucked around his arms. The entire room, palace, and country were silent; Ja'far kept his breathing down low so he could hear better over it and strained hard to see if he could pick up any unusual sounds. Something had to have woken him up and it was vital he find out what it was before there were any problems.

Just as Ja'far was about to toe his way out of the large bed, Sinbad's arm curled tighter around his midsection. _This is not a good position to be in; if there's an intruder I won't be able to use my left arm. And I can't throw a blade laying down like this, the trajectory would be off and I would miss therefore giving the intruder an opening to attack-_

"Fuck you, Sharrkan, you owe me twenty gold pieces."

Ja'far almost screamed. Ja'far _the assassin_ almost flipped his shit when his king was suddenly sitting up next to him in bed with his head lulled back in deep sleep. The white-haired man kept his eyes trained on Sinbad incredulously and partially horrified because he had never known his king was prone to _sleep talking._ "W-what?"

"We made a bet and I won. I drank eight glasses of wine before breakfast and Ja'far had no fucking clue."

"You did _what?!"_ Ja'far screamed a harsh whispered at the now _naked_ man sitting next to him still completely unconscious. As much as the advisor wanted to slap Sinbad awake and wring his neck, he couldn't conjure up enough strength to do it. He was too tired and too damn pissed to have any sort of coherent thoughts whatsoever.

At this point in time, Ja'far was up in Sinbad's face trying to sputter out a sentence. Then Sinbad suddenly leaned in even closer and placed his index finger over Ja'far's parted lips, stopping him mid-sentence, " _Shhhhhhhhhh._ If people come here asking what oysters are, say you don't know."

"Sin, that doesn't make any fucking sense," Ja'far was already losing his mind from lack of sleep and Sinbad sure as hell wasn't helping with his constant stream of bullshit.

"Would you be mad if I told you I sent a letter to the Kou with a drawing of my penis on it?" Sinbad asked with his head turned in Ja'far's direction, but his eyes shut.

"Why?! Did you?!" Ja'far shouted, his voice starting to raise above a whisper. _He better not have fucking…_

"Nope!" he said cheerfully and slammed his head back into the pillow with enough force to rock the bed, then he rolled over and went back to sleep.

Ja'far was a complete mess. Somehow in under a minute, his king managed to make all that built up sanity go swan-diving out the palace window. _Okay, so he's been getting drunk before breakfast, has knowledge about a possible illegality called 'oysters'-whatever that was supposed to mean-and sending dick drawings to the Kou; I can deal with that, right? Right?!_

The frazzled advisor decided he better leave and get back to work, it was clear tomorrow was going to be enough to give him three consecutive heart attacks and a stroke depending on if Sinbad was telling the truth or not. He got up, forcefully ripping the man's arm off of him and picking up his discarded clothes.

"Get back here ya assassin slut," came the slurred voice of his beloved king.

Ja'far had to fight himself not to immediately pounce on the man and snap his neck. His eyebrow twitched and his neck practically _creaked_ from the force Ja'far put into slowly turning around back towards the bed. He jumped back in terror when Sinbad was suddenly standing _right fucking in front of him._ Never in Ja'far's life had he believed in the paranormal, but he wasn't sure what to make of the sudden change in his king's behavior-he would take any explanation for it. "What the fuck is the matter with you?!"

"I _love_ you. And you have a nice ass," then Sinbad reached around and grabbed a fistful of Ja'far's backside, giving it a playful squeeze.

 _Oh._

 _Fuck._

 _No._

Calm? Sanity? Ja'far didn't even know what those things _were._ He pulled his fist back and hurled it right into the naked man's face. It wasn't exactly a _punch,_ per say, it was more of a _slap,_ with his knuckles. It was already tomorrow and Jafar didn't have the energy to make a full fist. Instead, he settled for curling his hand halfway into a fist and striking Sinbad with his palm and whatever else happened to make contact. Sinbad fell back into the bed with an accomplished grin on his face and resumed snoring peacefully.

With the idiot king sleeping again, Ja'far looked at him in complete shock and utter speechlessness. He wasn't sure what happened, but whatever it was it was one of the most disturbing moments of his life. Ja'far left the bedroom in a hurry with his wad of clothes tucked under his arm and disappeared into the hallway. Out of all the mixed up thoughts in his head, the most clear was his full intention of spending whatever was left of the night in his _own room._ He just hoped Sin's face wouldn't bruise. That sure would be a bitch to explain to the other generals.

… _.._

 **Sorry it's a little on the short side. Let me know what you think! I'm trying to decide if I should just leave it or actually attempt to turn it into a story.**


End file.
